Page 22 of Ride with the Devil

“Okay. No checkers. Got it. Anything to eat? I’m feeling a little peckish.”

Luca winces.

I’m thinking that’s a ‘no’ on the food sitch, too.

Glancing down, I pluck at the t-shirt beneath my leather jacket. “What about clothes? You don’t want me going anywhere to turn in your boss. I’d rather not have to wear the same underwear day after day if I don’t have to.”

“Clothes,” he echoes in a strangled voice.

I sigh. “Not too prepared to keep a woman captive, are you?”

Luca swallows roughly. “I can honestly say this was not how I planned on my night going when the boss said he needed a ride.”

Huh. I guess not.

Taking a little pity on him, I say, “Size large top. Ten in jeans.” I caress the curve of my ass, and Luca’s nostrils flare. “Large in panties, too. And if you wanna splurge for a couple of bras, size 36C.”

His gaze immediately drops to my chest. I’m not surprised. He’s probably looking at my tits and trying to match that to the bra size I gave him. I mean, I practically invited him to gawk at my cleavage.

And maybe I did it on purpose. If I’m stuck here, it’ll make the time go that much faster if my captor can be manipulated by sex. Something about the way he’s hesitant around me even though he’s supposed to be the one in control tells me that he’s at least attracted.

I can use that, too.

“If I need anything else,” I add, moving near enough to him that I can pat him on the hard chest, “I’ll make sure to tell you.”

Luca freezes under my touch. I can’t tell if that’s a good or bad reaction, but I take my hand back, pretending not to notice it all.

“So your name,” he says after a moment, obviously still stuck on that. What is he? A stickler for introductions or something? “Does it start with a H?”

Maybe he is, but he’s also so damn adorable.

Like he didn’t see my ‘H’ tat in the web of my hand when he was putting those cheap-ass cuffs on me. If he wanted to restrain me, he needed standard issue police cuffs, not the shit you get for 3.99 at Walmart. Even kinky, furred cuffs would’ve been better, though my last ex would verify that I could break free of those with enough motivation.

What would he say if I told him I got the tattoo after the first time I dropped a hummingbird crystal figurine at the feet of the first contract I took? That it would be a real noob move to ink the actual bird on my skin, but a tiny ‘H’? Who would ever know?

Not Luca.

“Nope.” I make another display of looking around. “You work on getting me some clothes. Until then, I’ll just have to stick with these. But a shower… I want one of those. Please tell me there’s hot running water up here.”

“Um. Yeah. Actually, there’s a bathroom in the basement. You get your own bed, your own room, and your own bathroom.”

I give him an appraising look. “Okay. Maybe you’re a little more prepared than I thought. Good. And I hope there’s enough hot water otherwise you’ll be shivering when you wash up.” I pause for a moment. “You are going to be the one staying here with me, right?”

He hesitates for a moment. “Until Devil relieves me or tells me to come home, I’ll be here.”

Translation: until the Devil of Springfield decides I’m too much trouble and orders his driver to use that Ruger against me.

Nah. That’s not going to happen. And if it does…

Well. Playtime will be over for Kylie. Until then?—

“You want to join me?” I ask him.

“Join you?” I swear to fucking God, the heights of his cheeks turnpink. “You mean, in the shower?”

I shrug. “Sure.”

His hand falls behind him, landing on the butt of his gun. “No. I… no. I don’t think so.”

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